


A Guest For Mr Spider

by BrutalPipeMurder



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), M/M, Mind Control (just a little), Probably other things., Sadness, Spiders, Violence, Web!Martin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24172051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrutalPipeMurder/pseuds/BrutalPipeMurder
Summary: Martin didn't want to be a part of the Web. He barely knew it existed until he was torn apart by spiders in an alleyway. But even after he left his job at the Magnus Institute so he wouldn't hurt anyone, Jon Sims is a constant. In his head at least.So imagine his surprise when he finds Jon, on his doorstep, covered in worms.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	A Guest For Mr Spider

To say that Martin was living in a way that was comfortable wouldn’t be… exactly true. It wasn’t that bad. Not as bad as others, as he’d protest. Sure, he got a couple more spiders. And maybe he couldn’t exactly control his strange mind control power. Not to mention all the random Avatars he’s never met coming to kill. The Web isn’t really… well-liked by other Entities due to its ability to trap others. The others weren’t that bad, but they certainly were a thorn in his side at the least when they tried to kill him every other day. Maybe it was how close he was to both the Eye and Lonely, which also weren’t very well-liked. 

The man let out a sigh, pouring himself a tea silently, staring at the bronze liquid filling the ‘I can’t think straight’ rainbow cup he bought for 3 dollars. He thought it was funny, and no one else was in his apartment to judge him for the dumb apparel. He chuckled a little, adding the small amount of sugar to his tea needed to make it perfect, in his opinion, of course.

Martin didn’t live in a rural area, per say, he was in a place with little people, he was still in the big city. He was scared that he’d hurt someone. The new abilities he had gained weren’t completely under control. He would take trips whenever he needed new clothes or food. And of course, to feed his patron. It wasn’t something he enjoyed doing, but when he didn’t lie to or trap someone for too long, he got delirious. He always took it as a warning and went straight to the heart of London.

Annabelle mostly provided him with costs, claiming that it’s ‘compensation for turning him against his will’. Of course, he didn’t want to be a conduit for spiders and lies. He never wanted that. He just wanted a nice, somewhat respectable job and maybe a boyfriend, but he only got about a quarter of that. He had a job. 

As he continued to reminisce, he forgot to drink his tea and got sad when he ‘awoke’ to find it cold. He didn’t want to drink that, hell no. But he did. What was he supposed to do, waste it? No. That would be rude. Even though he made it. It was bad reasoning, but he didn’t want to waste the tea. He was about halfway through chugging it when--

‘Knock, knock, knock, knock.’

The knocks sounded polite, if a little rushed. Martin rushed to the door, curious about who would visit him. He had no neighbours that were really interested in meeting him. Oh, unless he had a new neighbour!

Oh.

Oh.

That person wasn’t a new neighbour. 

That person was Jonathan Sims. 

That person was his old boss, his old crush and absolutely covered in worms. Prentiss worms. Why did the Corruption..? Ah! No time for that. 

Jon blearily blinked, barely conscious and whispered, “Martin…?” The word was short and confused, but slightly muffled by the holes in his cheek with the worms inside of it. Plus, his words were slightly overpowered by the sound of squirming.

Martin responded by pulling him inside, making sure to mind the worms and holes in Jon’s arms. About three steps in, Jon passed out. The new avatar panicked for a second, dropping Jon and running to get a fire extinguisher. What? You never know what’s going to happen. In seconds, he was back and spraying Jon with CO2. The worms made a sound similar to a scream and slightly shrivelled, showing they were dead. Martin cautiously approached, staring at his ex-boss in slight confusion. What happened?

He ignored the question in favour of picking Jon up and placing him in the bathroom. More specifically, in the bathtub. Harder for the worms to eat through. Doing a thorough inspection, he eventually decided that the worms weren’t alive and were now safe to remove. The situation was ridiculous. That’s all he could think of as he grabbed a knife, some tweezers, an old plate and a corkscrew. Snatching the disinfectant from the cabinet, Martin began in impromptu surgery. 

Around 40 worms and many bloody holes later, Martin was done with Jon. He had made sure to disinfect and bandage all of the tiny holes, because he’s not an idiot. Carefully picking him up, he carried Jon to the living room, where he carefully placed him on the couch. He put a blanket over him and waited for the archivist to wake up.

….  
Time to make another tea.

So there he was. Again. In the kitchen, reminiscing while staring into tea. This time he remembered to actually drink it hot. He sighed. He usually confined himself to one or two teas a day to calm himself down, but he deserved this. He finished the tea quite quickly, but he stood there for a while. Not sure how long, to be honest, but he didn’t really mind. Until he heard a groan from the next room, followed by a pained hiss and a confused hum. 

Martin rushed in, looking to see if Jon hurt himself somehow. He wouldn’t be surprised. Jon locked eyes with him and the former’s eyes widened. “M-Martin? Where…. Where am I? W-where’s Jane? The worms-!” 

The archivist started to scan his own body, seeing the bandages, that had the tiniest bit of blood on them. Not enough to have to change them yet, but enough for him to understand what was under them. Martin took a sharp breath in. God, of all people, why was it Jon? Why couldn’t it have been Tim or Sasha? “D-did you do this..?” The man piped up from the couch, gesturing to the bandages before wincing at the movement.

“Uh,” Martin started intelligently. “Uh, y-yeah. You showed up a-at my door covered in worms so… I uh, helped.”

Jon blinked. Somehow, he was in the tunnels and got to Martin. How big are those tunnels…? Did he stagger through the city, covered in worms only to somehow find his ex-worker? How..? To be honest, Jon had more prying questions to ask, but he stuck with the easy stuff. “Where are we?” He inquired, looking around the living room.

The other man gulped. “Uh, just around the more… uninhabited areas of London. A nice p-place, I assure you,” Martin quickly replied, looking nervous. Was Jon going to ask why he left? He hoped not. He really didn’t like lying to Jon.

“Hm,” Jon grunted in that classic Jon way. You know. The way that somehow conveys both amusement, disappointment and disapproval all in one low hum? That’s the Jon grunt. Martin fiddles with the hem of his shirt. Though it conveyed awkwardness, it was mostly due to the anxiety of having a lot of scars under that shirt. Some of the scars were covered in spider webs, and he’d rather not have someone who works at the Institute see that.

The two sat in silence for a while, Jon wondering what to say and Martin wondering whether he should take the damned man to the hospital. While it was probably unsurprising, the latter was shocked when the former spoke up first. “...where did you go, Martin?”

The silence returned, but it was heavier this time. It had more weight, and it made Martin uneasy. What was he supposed to say?? ‘Oh, sorry, Jon. After I had a run in with a worm lady, I had a run in with a spider lady who killed me and then made me into a spider person so I left. Oh and also, 2 days after I left Elias called me and threatened me. Now I know about a bunch of evil gods and also maybe have super powers.’ To be honest, it didn’t seem like it’d work out. “I… I had to get out of the Archives. That place… it made me uneasy. You know? All of the spooky corridors,” Jon grimaced at the work ‘spooky’ but let him continue. “The feeling of being watched? I hated it. I just… couldn’t be there.”

The lies spilled out of Martin’s mouth quicker than he could snap his fingers. He didn’t mean to lie, but he would admit, it took some weight off of his shoulders. Jon looked at him with sympathy and almost… sadness? It was the first time that Jon looked at him with something other than irritation or anger and it… confused him. It made him feel bad, too. Here he was, lying about something that his cru-- ex-crush was actually really worried about. Jon didn’t say anything, so Martin (ever the actor) spoke up again. 

“So. Mind explaining the worms? I mean, I’d imagine it was Prentiss, but--” Martin cut himself off at the pained look on Jon’s face. He stopped in his words as Jon semi-gestured for Martin to come over to the couch. The man obliged and walked over, sitting against the couch and turning to his… friend? Friend. For now. Until he leaves of course! Then he’s just Jon! 

“There were worms… uh, in the walls of the institute. They got in, Prentiss got in. I was trapped for a while. Then Tim broke down the wall, turns out there are tunnels under the institute as well, so that’s just great,” Jon ranted with no filter, going on about how it was so tiring. He eventually shifted from the worms to his job in general. He must be tired or something. “It’s been kind of weird without you. Tim and Sasha miss you, that’s for sure.”

Martin choked a little. They… they missed him? Why? He hadn’t even been gone for too long… well… maybe a little bit. But he didn’t even contribute that much!

“What was it that Tim compared you to…? Ah, yes, a ‘ray of sunshine’. Certainly out of place in a place like the archives. Maybe it’s good that you quit,” technically he didn’t quit. He just left. That’s why Elias was so mad at him. Well, other than the fact that he abandoned the Eye for the Web, which he didn’t even do of his own volition. “--nestly I think it’s quite accurate. Martin? Are you okay?”

“Jon! You’re the one who had worms infesting your body and you’re asking if I’m alright?!” Martin asked incredulously. Jon shrugged, before wincing again at the pull at the bandages and subsequent injuries. A small ping rang out. Martin’s phone. He pulled it out of his pocket, checking his texts. It was from Elias. 

**Elias Bouchard**

**Elias: Hello, Martin. I’m aware that you are no longer working at the institute, but I was wondering if you have seen Jon recently?**

Jon, who had obviously been reading over Martin’s shoulder huffed. “Give me the phone,” he said grumpily. His slightly loopy and soft attitude was obviously spoiled at the mere sight of Elias’s name. Not wanting to make him more irritated, Martin surrendered his phone to the archivist.

**You: This is Jon. Yes, I’m here. Yes, I’m fine. I might have to rest up for a while.**

**Elias: Oh. Jon. Do you need me to come pick you up? I’m nearly done with a lot of the paperwork.**

**You: No thank you. The holes are basically everywhere, so I don’t think it’s wise to move me.**

**Elias: I see. How did you find Martin?**

**You: I’m not too sure, but I think I went through the tunnels?**

**Elias: Hm. Well, Mr Blackwood, treat him well. Jon, get some rest.**

**You: Yes, Elias.**

As Martin scrolled through the messages, he knew that Elias was probably mad at him. He wasn’t at fault and he knew that but Elias would blame him for anything with how much he messed up the Beholder’s ‘great plan’. Martin himself shot Elias a quick text, making sure Jon didn’t see it. 

**You: this is martin. fuck off, elias**

**Elias: If he gets hurt, the Web is going to have a lot of issues, I hope you are aware of this.**

**You: like i care about the webs issues**

**Elias: You really should. Now, I need to go get some work done. Goodbye, Martin.**

**You: dont text me again**

The web infested man fumed silently. Who was Elias Douchard to tell him what to do? He doesn’t work for him anymore. He isn’t even affiliated with the eye anymore! Letting out a sigh, he looked at Jon, who was looking like he was about to pass out again. 

A fond smile crosses Martin’s face. “Get some more rest, Jon,” he coerced, a bit of an echo to his voice. The man’s eyes widened. He didn’t mean to-! 

Jon was out cold. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

He really didn’t mean to do that! He started breathing faster. Oh no. What if Elias knew? What if Elias Knew? Martin shivered and looked around, searching for an invisible watcher. Nononononononono. He desperately tried to calm himself. Jon is right there! It took him a while to slow his breathing. Once he eventually did, he passed out still sitting up against the couch, exhausted. 

_Martin ran through the streets of London, frantically searching for the institute. Where was it?? He needed to get there. Get to Tim and Sasha. Get to Jon. Tell them what happened. Why he was gone for two weeks. He breathed heavily, the sound of squirming worms still fresh in his mind. God dammit!_

_He bumped into someone. A lovely looking lady with short, bleach blond hair. When she turned to see him, a surprised grin grew on her face. “Oh, hello there!” She greeted, her face dreadfully excited. Martin wasn’t sure if he liked it or not._

_“I-I-I’m so sorry, ma’am but I really must get going--!” He replied, trying to sneak past her. Of course, she stopped him. Her smile was sharp and she grabbed his hand._

_“No no no. That simply won’t do, Martin! I simply want to help you!” The stranger exclaimed, tugging on his hand as she started walking. He briefly tried to pull away from her grip but he found himself stuck. He was confused when the words ‘like a web’ crossed his mind. “Come with me, Martin,” she crooned. For a second, Martin nearly straight up ignored her but then he fell limp. His body continued without him as he followed her into a dark alleyway._

_As soon as he was out of sight, he was in pain. He felt… things crawling all over him. Their tiny legs scampering over his skin. Some tearing into his flesh. He couldn’t scream. He was in pain, but he couldn’t. “Don’t you want power, Martin? Everyone always uses you for their own gain, but don’t you want to use someone for once?” She asked. The woman who had been tugging him smiled at this, watching as the spiders tore into him. She watched as he passed out, falling backwards._

_She watched as the spiders patched up the holes with webs and in around a minute, his eyes opened again. A long gasping breath escaped his mouth as he dry heaved. The stranger watched patiently, still keeping that pleasant smile. He stood up and looked angry at her. “What the ever loving FUCK was that?!” He yelled, looking at her in anger. His shirt was torn to shreds, the web covered wounds prominent against his pale yellow sweater. The bloodstains weren’t easy not to stare at, either._

_“Welcome to the Web, Mr Blackwood! We’ve had our eye on you for some time now!” She grinned. The last thing he thought of was the thought of spiders making nests in his skin-_

And then he woke up again. God fucking dammit! He can’t… he took deep breaths in, deep breaths out. Calm down, Martin. That was ages ago. The wounds have healed, you’ve gotten better at self control- Jon.

Martin turned to see Jon looking at him in concern. “Martin? Are you okay? You, ah, seemed to be having a nightmare. I wasn’t sure how to wake you up…” Jon trailed off. He seemed… almost guilty? Why was Jon being so nice now? Why couldn’t have Jon been nice while he was working with him? Maybe his constant presence was more annoying.

He was hyper-aware of the webbed scars on his stomach as he swallowed and shot Jon a soft smile and an awkward chuckle. “It’s okay, Jon. I just… get those from time to time. Ah, how long do you think you’ll be staying?” It was a genuine question, mostly because he didn’t want Jon running into Annabelle or even Peter (who still pestered him from time to time, despite him being Web aligned now). 

Jon frowned. “I… I don’t want to be a burden, but I don’t think… I don’t think I can move much,” he replied, looking at his bandage covered body. “Maybe a week or so, if that’s okay? If not, I can ask Georgie to come pick me up?” 

Martin gritted his teeth. Someone’s bound to visit at some point. He’ll have to keep a low profile. “That’s okay!” He replied cheerfully, giving Jon a smile. “I’ll set up the guest bedroom!” This was not going to end well. If Jon was the archivist, that means he’s definitely claimed by the Eye. It isn’t going to like him being away for too long. 

Jon smiled softly. “Thank you, Martin.”

Martin just replied with a bashful smile, standing up and heading to the guest room to work it out for his new guest. But then his phone buzzed again. He sighed, checking it once more.

**Elias Bouchard**

**Elias: By the way, he’s going to need statements if he’s going to be there for too long. He’s also going to need them to heal. I’ll send some over.**

**You: what did i say about texting me**

**Elias: I believed it was important. Expect the statements at around 6. Goodbye.**

God fucking-- Martin hated Elias once he had figured out what he was doing with the insititute. With Jon and his friends. He grimaced and began his work in the guest room. He had to keep himself occupied somehow.


End file.
